


Desert Days

by mistresscurvy



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresscurvy/pseuds/mistresscurvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe goes searching for an answer in the desert. He finds Gerard Way in short-shorts instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turlough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turlough/gifts).



Gabe is leaning over the counter, reading a magazine, when he hears the door chime. He finishes the article on how to satisfy his man with five easy moves of his tongue before he glances up at whoever had just come in.  
   
He abruptly regrets his delay, because from the look of the pair of legs sticking out of the chiller he really wanted to see the whole package from the get-go.  
   
Great Legs is bent over completely, ass sticking out as he takes his time finding whatever drinks he needs. His legs are gorgeous, smooth and pale and long leading up from a pair of sneakers and turquoise tube socks. The condensation from the chiller swirls around him like fog, framing the legs and ass and pulling in Gabe's focus.  
   
And Gabe has seen some short-shorts in his days as a cashier at one of the only rest stops in this part of the desert, but these are some short-fucking-shorts.  
   
They look like a pair of worn, slightly loose yoga pants that someone had take a pair of scissors to, and they’re hiked up high enough that Gabe can tell that Great Legs definitely isn't wearing any underwear, because he can see quite clearly the little dip at the top of his hamstrings before the curve of his ass starts.  
   
He had thought this was just going to be another boring Thursday. He needs to remember not to discount an entire day based on the first three or four hours in the future.  
   
Great Legs finally stands up, holding three large bottles of generic bottled water up against his chest with his left arm and one large SmartWater in his right hand. Gabe takes in the bright red shock of hair falling across his cheekbones and the blue-and-white patterned t-shirt, letting himself check out Great Legs's great legs from this vantage point as well before bringing his eyes back up to Great Legs's face, at which point he realizes that Great Legs is Gerard Way.  
   
Who is _smirking_ at him from under his cherry-red bob, which was black the last time Gabe saw a picture of him in the indie arts magazine Gabe makes Morgan stock here. Well. Two can play at this game.  
   
"Hot enough for you?" he says easily. Gerard's eyes widen a little at that before his face relaxes; apparently small talk about the weather can break the ice even after being caught giving about the least-subtle once-over ever.  
   
"It's a beast out there," Gerard says, dropping the bottles down onto the counter in front of Gabe. "Especially when you've been running around doing the same take over and over again."  
   
"Short-shorts help, I bet," Gabe says, nodding down at the shorts which manage to actually be more obscene from the front. He cocks his head a little, pretty sure he can see—  
   
"Yeah, I wear pants over them for the actual scenes, but in between takes, forget it. Ray keeps complaining that he can see my balls though," Gerard says, twisting the top off one of the generic bottles and taking a long drink.  
   
"He's not wrong," Gabe says. He holds up his hands when Gerard glares at him over the water bottle. "Not that I'm complaining, believe me."

Gerard quirks an eyebrow at that as he brings down the bottle of water, wiping his mouth clean with his other hand. Gabe figures that's as good a moment as any.  
   
"Hey, I'm Gabe," he says, sticking his hand out, and Gerard takes it after a moment, his hand cold and wet from the water bottle.  
   
"Gerard," he says.  
   
If there's a cool way to say _yes, I know, I have your DVD box set at home on my TV stand,_ it doesn't come to Gabe in that moment. He decides to simply gloss over the issue — he knows who Gerard is, Gerard knows that he knows, let's just move on to the point.  
   
"You guys shooting something new? This get-up doesn't look much like The Black Parade," he says, and Gerard laughs a little.  
   
"Yeah, we decided this time we needed some color. The Black Parade is _really_ dead now — we're working on a whole new series," Gerard says, waving his hands around. "Post-apocalyptic desert scene, with a corporation and a resistance and an underground movement somewhere between the two. I think. We're still working out the details."  
   
"Yeah, totally," Gabe says, trying to remember if he'd heard anything about this. The Internet is going to go fucking nuts when he writes about this on his blog, seriously. "So who's the SmartWater for? One of you guys needs a brain boost?"  
   
"Oh," Gerard says, laughing and shaking his head, "that's for Frank. He's picky about his bottled water, says it tastes the best or whatever."  
   
"He's lucky to have you picking it up for him," Gabe says.  
   
Gerard shoots him a knowing look. "Yeah, well when we broke for the crew to set up the next scene I figured I'd be nice, give our runners a break," he says.  
   
"You got to come into the air conditioning too," Gabe says.  
   
"Might have been a consideration."  
   
"My lucky day."  
   
Gerard studies his face, and Gabe draws himself up taller, tries to look like the kind of guy who normally flirts with guys who look like Gerard Way. Which, to be fair, he totally is, but usually they're not _actually_ Gerard Way.  
   
"What's your story?" Gerard asks, one side of his mouth quirking up. He waves his hand around. "I mean, what do you do when you're not trying to pick up the occasional customer out here?"  
   
"You'd be surprised at how time-consuming that can be," Gabe says. He rubs his hands together, genuinely nervous for the first time during this encounter, but there's no reason to let Gerard know that. "No, I've got this band."  
   
"Really?" Gerard asks, and the bitch of it is that he actually seems to be interested, doesn't even react like it's a line, the oldest bullshit set-up in the book. Gabe almost doesn't know what to do with someone actually taking him seriously.  
   
"Really," he says. "We're still trying to get it off the ground, you know, and we might be moving back East to New York soon, but yeah. I'm in a band."  
   
"Why'd you come out here?" Gerard asks, gesturing to the barren heat outside.  
   
Gabe shrugs. "I felt like the desert was where we would find out what we needed to be in order to go back," and Gerard actually nods like he didn't just sound like a fucking lunatic hipster.  
   
"Well, I hope you find what you were looking for, Gabe," Gerard says, putting a ten down on the counter for the waters before he turns to leave.  
   
That is not how this conversation is going to end. "Wait," Gabe says. He swallows when Gerard looks back at him, face expectant. "I could bring you guys more water when my shifts ends. Save you or your runners another trip."  
   
Gerard smiles a little. "I'd miss out on another stop off in the air conditioning."  
   
"I'd make it worth your while," Gabe says, leaning over the counter and holding Gerard's gaze.  
   
It pays off. Gerard nods at him and says, "Okay. Don't forget the SmartWater for Frankie. Just head south about five miles -- you'll see the turn-off there. I'll let them know to expect you."  
   
"No one expects me, I'm like the fucking Spanish Inquisition all rolled up into one guy," Gabe says, and he works to keep the smile under wraps when Gerard looks him over.  
   
"I believe it," he says finally before pushing open the door and heading back out into the heat.  
   


* * *

Gabe doesn't exactly know what he's expecting to find when he drives down the highway four hours later, twelve large bottles of water (including four SmartWaters) on the backseat of his beater. But it's certainly not the town of trailers and trucks that blooms out of nowhere off the side of the highway, about 150 yards back from the road. There's a row of trailers and then a bunch of small, rambling shacks lining up beyond them, bright paint spattered on the outside walls.  
   
He pulls off the highway when he gets to the movie town, parking close to the nearest trailer. He gets out, the dry, hot wind slapping against his face as he walks around his car, taking it all in. He can hear music coming from over where the shacks are, and bursts of firecracker noises as well, but so far he hasn't seen anyone.  He looks around, wondering who the fuck he should talk to and whether he should just wander around until he finds a likely candidate. That seems like a risky thing to do on an open set like this, but he's not really sure there's a better option.  
   
That decision is made for him when Frank Iero comes out from around the trailer he's parked next to. He's wearing black jeans and a yellow shirt that would probably be blindingly bright if it weren't covered in a layer of dust, and there's a ray gun shoved in a shoulder holster strapped around his back. He looks up and sees Gabe, and his face shifts from surprise to suspicion to an almost creepy awareness as he looks him over.  
   
"You Gabe?" he asks, coming around the side of the car and leaning his hip against the rear bumper, arms crossed over his chest.  
   
Gabe nods. "Yup."  
   
Frank nods back, looking distracted. "You bring more water?"  
   
Gabe nods again, pointing at the backseat. "Four of them are SmartWaters."  
   
"Oh, sweet," Frank says, pushing himself off the bumper and opening the door to pull out a couple of bottles. "Craft won't carry this brand no matter what I say, it's a fucking joke. I mean, what's the point of being a television star if you don't get the water you want?"  
   
"Guess it really shows your place in the pecking order, huh," Gabe says.  
   
Frank snorts. "No shit," he says, cracking open the bottle and taking a swig. "Yeah, see, that's what fucking water is supposed to taste like."  
   
Gabe frowns, thinking. "Wait a minute, why the fuck did Gerard go buy water if you've already got it here?"  
   
Frank shrugs. "Probably wanted to get away for a bit, clear his mind or whatever," he says, tucking one bottle under his armpit and holding two others in his hands. He starts to walk away and then turns back to Gabe. "You should ask him."  
   
"Any idea where the fuck he is?" Gabe asks, not expecting much help and so pleasantly surprised when Frank jerks his head over to the right.  
   
"He should be near the shack with PARANOIA painted on the outside in blue. We're waiting for a florist to get here with a delivery of carnations, so don't worry about interrupting anything. We won't be starting up again until after five," Frank says, walking up the steps to one of the trailers and knocking on it with his head. A woman opens the door a minute later and Frank beams. "Hi honey! I brought us the good stuff."  
   
"My hero," she says dryly, closing the door behind him.

Gabe heads in the direction that Frank pointed him in, head held up high in an attempt to look like he belongs. He sees the shack with PARANOIA scrawled on the side and walks up to it, squaring his shoulders before opening the door.  
   
His eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim room after being out in the sun. He first makes out Mikey Way leaning on a table, arms folded across his chest and legs crossed at the ankles. And then he sees Gerard sitting in a chair against the far wall, his left heel propped up on the seat, pulling the fabric of the short-shorts tight against his crotch.  
   
The source of Ray's complaints are a bit clearer now, although the sight just makes him even happier he found the right shack.  
   
"Hi," he says, raising a hand in greeting.  
   
Gerard drops his leg down and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and Gabe spares a moment to mourn the loss of his view. "Gabe! You found us," he says, eyes bright behind the limp strands of hair covering most of his face.   
   
"Frank sent me this way," Gabe says. "The SmartWater was a pretty effective bribe."  
   
Gerard beams. "I knew it would be. Mikey, I'm going to show Gabe around the set, text me when they're ready to set up?"  
   
"Sure thing," Mikey says as Gerard walks towards the door and opens it up, gesturing to Gabe. He tries not to openly stare at Mikey's new blond hair as he walks out after Gerard, and he manages not to start asking a million and a half questions about what the fuck their new series is about. He's the water boy right now, Gerard will tell him what he tells him.  
   
That resolve lasts about two minutes into their walk around the set. "Seriously, Gerard, what the fuck is this place?"  
   
Gerard laughs, shaking his head. "I told you, we're still creating it. What I can say at this point is that we're working with the same director from The Black Parade and we're doing it the same way — he's just letting us create and getting it on camera, and then once we've got the raw materials we'll sort out what the story we're supposed to be telling actually is."  
   
"And that actually fucking works?" Gabe asks disbelievingly. "Because I get being all artistically-driven and all, but that sounds like a way to blow through a huge budget and not end up with anything. No offense."  
   
Gerard shrugs. "Worked the last time, didn't it?"  
   
Gabe doesn't really have a good answer to that.

Gerard doesn't really seem to care that Gabe basically just insulted his artistic process, telling Gabe about the significance behind each of the shacks they walk past. Everything is made out of drab, old-looking materials that have been painted over with bright, primary-color images and slogans. Gabe isn't really sure how they all tie together, or if Gerard is being deliberately vague and keeping the meaning secret from him or if he really doesn't know where the story is going yet. The more he hears from Gerard, the more he believes it's the latter, and strangely it also makes him believe that they'll actually come up with something new and inventive and crazy that still manages to hang together and tell a new story.

By the time they get back to the trailers, Gabe is half-expecting to just be relieved of the rest of the waters in his backseat and sent on his way. So when Gerard stops in front of one of the trailers and cocks an eyebrow at him, he's embarrassingly slow on the uptake.

"You want to hang out in my trailer for awhile?" Gerard asks finally, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

"Sure," Gabe says, and he gestures over his shoulder with a thumb. "You want me to grab some waters from the car?"

Gerard shakes his head. "Nah, I've got a fridge with cold ones inside." He climbs up the stairs and bends over to pull out a key from his sneaker. Gabe could pretend not to look at Gerard's ass and legs right in front of his face, but for one thing it's not like Gerard can see him do it, and for another Gerard just invited him into his trailer. He's pretty sure his appreciation of what's in front of him is expected, or at the very least not a deal breaker.

Gerard unlocks the door and holds it open for Gabe, who walks in and is shocked by the blast of air-conditioning. He turns back to Gerard as he comes in after him and shuts the door. "I thought you went on a water run for the air conditioning?"

"More to get a break from the shoot," Gerard says, leaning up against the door and watching Gabe, eyes intense and focused.

"Really. Seemed pretty important for you to get that water for Frank, too," Gabe says, testing.

Gerard laughs. "Trust me, if you've had to deal with him during fourteen hour shoots, you'd know how important it is to keep him happy. I like doing it." He hasn't moved from the door, and Gabe really doesn't feel like waiting any longer. He walks up to Gerard, boxing him in, hands resting against the door next to Gerard's hips.

"You're a good friend," he says, dipping his face close to Gerard's, breath quickening at the way Gerard's head moves with his, reacting as he almost kisses his cheek but pulls away just in time.

"I get that a lot," Gerard says, following along but not closing the distance, letting Gabe draw out the moment a little longer.

"But tell me," Gabe says, nosing up across his cheekbone over to his ear, "do you invite every water boy you pick up at a rest stop back to your trailer?"

Gerard pulls back at that, letting his head fall against the door. "You're the first," he says, and Gabe grins before leaning in and kissing him, swift and confident.

Kissing Gerard is just like talking with him, a constant flow that can end up taking a huge amount of concentration to follow but is worth it in the end. Gerard's mouth is demanding, expressive, all-consuming -- Gabe moves his hands off the door and onto his hips just to control something. He works his thigh between Gerard's legs, satisfied at how Gerard sighs into his mouth and then kisses him even more fiercely.

Gabe pulls him away from the door a little, getting his hands onto Gerard's ass, the tips of his fingers running along the shorts where they hit Gerard's thighs. His skin is soft and smooth, with just the slightest sheen of sweat from their walk, and Gabe moves his hands down his thighs before running them back up under the shorts, cupping Gerard's bare ass. Gerard breaks away from the kiss at that, tossing his hair back and looking up at Gabe, lips pink and shiny with spit.

"Yes?" Gabe asks, squeezing Gerard's ass and grinning when Gerard goes up onto his toes in response, grinding his hips into Gabe's.

"I was going to make sure you don't feel like I'm taking advantage of you, but somehow I don't think that's a problem," Gerard says, getting his arms up around Gabe's shoulders and pulling him down into another kiss while he wraps a leg around Gabe's hips.

Gabe supports Gerard's leg, helping him lock it around his lower back, and he picks Gerard up by his hips and twirls them around until he can dump them down onto the couch that's been begging for them to use. He pushes up Gerard's shirt with his hands while they kiss, dragging his fingers up his stomach and finding his nipples to pinch and pull. Gerard bites down on his lower lip when he twists his left nipple, and Gabe huffs out a laugh and pulls away a little.

"Okay, not quite so hard then," he says as he kneels up between Gerard's legs and cups Gerard's hard dick through his shorts. Gerard groans and pushes up into his hand, and Gabe just plays for a bit, rubbing and stroking through the soft fabric. He can see the edges of his balls where the shorts don't quite cover them now, and he imagines Gerard walking around outside like this, his erection impossible to ignore.

It's pretty impossible for him to ignore it even in the privacy of a trailer, he reflects, and he bends down to rub his mouth over Gerard's dick, letting the fabric get damp and breathing in Gerard's scent, the sweat and musk. Gerard groans, grabbing his arms as Gabe explores Gerard's thighs and balls and cock with his face, licking along the crease between his thigh and balls.

When the tease becomes too much for him to stand, he pulls the waistband of the shorts down, lifting both of Gerard's legs straight up in the air to get them off and dipping back down as soon as they fall open again. He licks up the shaft of his cock once, moving back down to suck on Gerard's balls while he wraps a hand around and begins to stroke, slow and steady.

"Oh," Gerard breathes above him, hips moving in little circles, and Gabe has to move up and get his mouth on the head of Gerard's cock. He tongues around the head, letting it slide against his lower lip before taking it down. He bobs up and down, his right hand twisting along the shaft as his tongue swirls up around under the crown. Gerard's hands tighten on his arms, and he increases the pace a little, sucking him down hard and fast and stroking him through it when Gerard arches up and comes, dick pulsing in his hand.

Gabe pulls off to swallow and then licks over the slit, getting the last drop of come and kissing the head before moving up the couch. Gerard is panting heavily, one hand pushed through his hair and his eyes locked on Gabe's as he grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down into a kiss, tongue thrusting in aggressively. Gabe lets him shift them over onto their sides, content to let Gerard's hands work open his pants and reach down around his cock. He sighs into Gerard's mouth when he begins to stroke him firmly, his long figures wrapped around him, and he cups Gerard's face and holds him close when he comes in his hands.

Gerard keeps kissing him gently, Gabe's dick softening in his hands, and Gabe has a moment to reflect that while a blowjob in the backroom had definitely seemed like a possibility when he saw those legs in his store, getting off with Gerard Way in his trailer really hadn't.

And post-orgasm making out and cuddles were even further from his radar, but what was the point of going to the desert if not to encounter the unexpected?

He finally pulls away a little from Gerard's touch, knocking his forehead gently against Gerard's, whose eyes are wide open and staring. Gabe has to work to keep him in focus at this distance.

"You know, when I came to the desert to have a revelation," he begins, managing to keep a straight face even as Gerard rolls his eyes and huffs a little, "I never thought it would involve you and a pair of short-shorts."

"Wouldn't be a revelation if you could predict it," Gerard says seriously, leaning in to bite gently on Gabe's lower lip.

Gabe turns it into a kiss, swift and sure, and then he bends his face close to Gerard's ear. "I'll take you as a vision any day."


End file.
